Advent
by IncendioVerum
Summary: As December rolls through Boston, The Rizzoli and Isles households come together to celebrate and end up experiencing several truths behind the Christmas season; hope, love, joy and peace abound, and even a Christmas miracle or two. [Eventual Rizzles]
1. Chapter 1

**Advent**

**By** **IncendioVerum**

**Summary: **As December rolls through Boston, The Rizzoli and Isles households come together to celebrate and end up experiencing several truths behind the Christmas season; hope, love, joy and peace abound, and even a Christmas miracle or two.

**Disclaimer**: Plot idea is mine but any recognizable characters in the R&I world are not mine. Any recognizable Boston places, people or events are also not mine. I'm a big fan though. No money is being made off of this literary offering, my reward is the feeling of accomplishment I get from crafting something interesting from my imagination and harnessing it to the page so that others may enjoy.

**AN**: Yes I know I'm way behind on Null Space. I hit an unexpected block early on trying to connect point B to point C but I'm working through it. Hence this story. This one is not related to Null Space. BUT…we are about in the same part in the series, minus the last few episodes. So midway through season 5-ish.

This plot bunny turned into a plot rhinoceros….let me know if I should continue this one. Rated T for language, just to be safe; but I may hit an M rating later on, we shall see, no promises. Specific places named are probably fictional in nature unless immediately recognizable to Boston natives because I'm too tired to do the research into historically and geographically accurate religious spaces in Boston at the moment...also, forgive the colloquialisms and the dialect. I had fun sticking those in though, makes me feel more at home See how many references you can spot to different episodes.

**AN2**: Warning, religious themes incoming. While the Rizzoli's are catholic, I'm not, but I'm educated in other Christian denominations, so forgive me if I take artistic liberty with certain religious concepts. If the Christmas theme thing is not something you can roll with, I'm ok with that. If you're at least open to the storytelling aspect, welcome aboard.

Happy Holidays to all, regardless of what you celebrate. Peace and Love all.

**R&IR&I **

**R&IR&I R&IR&I R&IR&I**

**R&IR&I R&IR&I**

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><p><strong>Advent<strong>

Definition: A time of expectant waiting and preparation. The arrival of a notable person, thing, or event.

**PART 1.**

**Hope **

Definition**: **a feeling of expectation, a desire for a certain thing to happen. A feeling of trust.

* * *

><p><strong>ooooOOoooo<strong>

**.**

Mid-afternoon on the first Sunday in December, a very tired Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, stepped through her front door and was welcomed by a delicious scent wafting over from her kitchen. She shrugged off her coat and after a moment's indecision, slipped out of her Prada heels and left them neatly in the anteroom. Realizing that Angela must be at least halfway through preparing Sunday dinner for the Rizzoli clan (and Maura of course), she detoured briefly to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a well-deserved measure of aged Glenfiddich. The alcohol was not her usual faire but the medical examiner knew none of her wines would be able to cut through the tightness of her body as efficiently and expediently as the single malt scotch she had just poured herself.

This week had been one of the more difficult in her experience as chief M.E., and Jane's unusually personal response to their most recent case had made things even more trying. She allowed herself a long sip, and tried to release the frustration of the past week.

A vicious and horrifying quadruple homicide with barely any leads had shocked Boston's North end community and stumped the department. Jane and Korsak headed up the case and had worked themselves to the bone trying desperately to uncover some sensible motive for the occult-like killings. The crime lab had been unable to find any useable trace evidence, and while Maura knew she was extremely skilled in her profession, even she had to admit that while the murders were somewhat ritualistically performed, she could find no local links to the archaic symbols carved into the flesh of all four of her morgue's familial inhabitants.

Doctor Isles was confident in the cause and manner of death for the family, but she had nothing more than the obvious to offer the homicide dept. On a personal level, Maura hated to disappoint Jane, though she knew the sentiment was a ridiculous notion. Her findings were exact when it came to the anatomical evidence but her heart panged every time her ever-brave detective poked her shaggy head into the morgue with a hopeful look on her increasingly strained face, only to watch the spark in warm chocolate brown eyes dim further and further every time Maura had to tell her there was no additional evidence to be found, no more tox screens to run on the bodies, and no more answers to help solve this disturbingly anti-religious, or perhaps proto-religious crime, so close to the Christian holiday celebrating the birth of a historically relevant prophet who would, in many people's eyes, become a self-sacrificial figure for a spiritual movement that had over the centuries, dramatically changed the existence of millions upon millions of people. Unfortunately, Boston PD was primarily concerned with just four people of faith at the moment, found by a groundskeeper in the early morning, crucified to the frozen earth in the cemetery of the church they attended.

The doctor padded into the kitchen and made her presence known to her best friend's mother. "Maura!" The elder Rizzoli exclaimed, happy to see her daughter's beloved friend and housemate. "Come here sweetie. I know you all have had a tough week." The M.E. smiled, delighted to be greeted with the warm arms of her pseudo-mother. Angela gave her a solid hug and scanned the M.E.'s weary face for a moment, before letting her go to turn back to the stove. "You're just in time, I'm almost finished. The boys will be here soon. Have you seen Jane today? Is she coming?"

Maura grimaced and faltered a moment before responding. "I'm not sure Jane will be up for joining us until later." She blinked. "If she manages to come at all."

Angela glanced up sharply, then returned her gaze to the manicotti she was stuffing. "That poor family in the news?" she inquired gently. "The ones found in Corpus Christi's cemetery?

Maura nodded briefly and took another sip of scotch. "Jane's case. You know I can't really talk about it in detail." The Rizzoli matriarch nodded, but kept her attention on the doctor as she continued her prep work, sensing that there was something that perhaps needed to be talked about, hidden beneath the somewhat clinical façade already falling from the younger woman's visage. "There's just not much evidence to go on and there are a few similarities to… past events for Jane...I believe it's starting to..." Maura paused delicately, not wanting to reveal any of her best friend's private struggles but finally allowing herself to feel the strain of their relationship the past week had wrought on them.

Angela smirked. "She can't figure it out, and it's starting to eat at her." She helpfully supplied, watching the emotions fly by the M.E.'s face. "She's been grumpy. Cranky. Restless. Not sleeping. In general, an asshole, running on caffeine and bravado." Angela watched with a bit of amusement as her words hit home with the usually composed doctor, who often caught the brunt of Jane's snappiness when she was frustrated.

Maura's chagrined expression spoke volumes. "It's been a four or five dark roast grande with extra expresso shot' sort of day, if that gives you any indication." The doctor acknowledged the situation to a point; even though she knew Jane's mother had no idea how much this case had disturbed Jane on a much more personal and more spiritual level than usual.

"That's my kid," The elder Italian snorted. "Smart as a whip, but sometimes she couldn't find a clue if it smacked her in the forehead." She gave a laugh. "But Janie'll figure it out. You'll see. We just gotta have hope; give her some time to wrap her fool head around all the facts. How she feels. My baby girl's got some good instincts. Sometimes she's a bit more bull than china shop, if you know what I mean, but she'll put all the pieces together eventually." Angela tucked the pan of manicotti into the oven and wiped off her hands, giving the M.E. a sympathetic grin.

Maura gulped down the last of her scotch rather than respond, not entirely sure exactly what they were talking about anymore, and suddenly alarmed that it was somehow possible that Jane's mother had an inkling of the true depth of her feelings for the headstrong detective. Feelings that she had tried so carefully to put away in favor of a solid trusting friendship with Jane, and in light of her current relationship with Jack. She moved to pour herself another couple of fingers and paused next to her dining room table, noticing a new addition.

"What's that Angela?" The M.E. inquired, as the matriarch of the Rizzoli clan fussed with a wayward branch of a small, round coniferous bundle with five tapered candles that had been planted squarely upon her dining room table at some point this weekend, probably while she was at the station earlier today.

The Italian woman flashed a bright grin. _So that's where Jane gets it from,_ the doctor mused, absently contemplating the anatomy of the elder Rizzoli's mandible and comparing it to Jane's stronger, more pronounced jaw in her mind's eye.

"Oh Maura, I hope you don't mind, its tradition… well, sort of." Angela winced. "Past few years my kids have all been so busy, they don't get to church much during the Christmas season, so I started lighting an advent wreath on the table for Sunday dinner, just so we could celebrate one of the church traditions as a family."

The M.E. shrugged smoothly. "I don't mind Angela, it looks quite festive." She perused the display. "Is there a symbolic meaning behind the amount of candles?"

Angela nodded. "Each week, one candle is lit, and it represents… well, I guess you could say it represents the biggest ideas in the church, or the basics of what we're supposed to believe in. I'm sure there's more complicated reasons," She asserted, "but I think sometimes simple is better." She pointed out each candle. "The first candle represents Hope. That's today's candle. Then there's Love, Joy, and Peace. Can't get any more simple than that!" she exclaimed brightly.

"And the fifth? I can't help but notice it's a different color."

"That's for the baby Jesus, and I guess that's why his candle is white, because babies are pure and innocent. We light that one on Christmas eve."

"Ah, a birthday candle." Maura said insightfully, making the connection.

Angela smiled. "Yes, a birthday candle for a very important little man." She frowned, "Maura honey, I know you're very scientific and I'm sure this religion business might not be your cup of tea, but you're family, and I'm sure everyone would love it if you joined us for Christmas eve service. We go to the eleven o'clock mass at St. John's, and it's a beautiful service, with lots of music and lights, I'm sure Janie would be thrilled if you said yes."

It took a moment for Maura to reply, caught between her automatic self-protective response and the unexpected honor of being included, as if she were family, _You __**are**__ family_, she could hear Jane's voice echoing in her head indulgently.

"I… alright." She acquiesced. "As long as we don't get called in, then, of course, I'd love to be a part of your family's tradition."

A sudden ruckus at the door startled them both, and they could only watch in surprise as a small herd of male Rizzoli's whisked in the back door and made themselves comfortable. Angela tutted at them and made her way back to the kitchen to check on the manicotti, while Maura discretely checked her phone. No messages or texts. She sent a brief text inquiry out to the only absent Rizzoli, but was unsurprised when she didn't get an immediate reply. She sighed, and set about preparing the table for dinner.

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><p><strong>ooooOOoooo<strong>

**.**

They had just sat down together in the dining area, and Angela had the lighter in her hand, ready to begin their December dinner tradition when a cold breeze passed through from the back of the room, followed by a clomp of boots, a cough, several high pitched barks, and finally the remaining Rizzoli made her appearance, slinking up to the table with an apologetic expression, an excited terrier at her heels. Dark circles under her eyes and a slightly pale pallor told Maura more than Jane would have ever willingly admitted to publicly about her health and sleeping habits this past week, but at least she was here. That, in and of itself, was a minor miracle, and Maura couldn't help but feel elated that Jane was trying to be present, even in the midst of their disheartening case.

The lanky detective scooted next to her mother and bent down to give her a kiss. "Hi Ma, sorry I'm late. Been a rough week." She started sheepishly. "Hey, Frankie; Tommy." She greeted her brothers in turn, with a squeeze of a shoulder and a ruffle of hair. "Hiya TJ, oh you're getting so big, give Auntie Jane a hug." She stooped down and embraced her babbling nephew, holding on just a little bit longer than usual. Maura watched a brief flash of something cross her face, quickly replaced by her more professional demeanor. Eventually she got around to the empty spot at the table, which was next to the M. E., as always.

"Hey Maur'," she burred, with a bit more softness than she had greeted the rest of her family. She sat down, running her scarred hand down the length of Maura's shoulder and arm, all the way to her hand, which she squeezed surreptitiously as she settled in.

Maura squeezed back gently, aware of the tenuous hold Jane was currently keeping on her emotions in order to handle dinner with her family tonight. "Hi there," she responded. "I'm glad you could make it."

Jane flashed a muted grin at her, and focused on her mother. "So, Ma, you gonna light this thing or what?" She teased.

Her brothers giggled while Angela huffed. "Jane, be nice. You know the drill. This is the Hope candle. I'm gonna light it, and then I want everyone to go around the table and tell us about something you hope for this year." After a few false starts, she was able to light the first candle, which set a nice soft glow on the table. "Okay, Tommy, you first."

"Aww Ma, Why I gotta go first?"

Angela narrowed her eyes at her youngest child. "Because I said so. So spill."

Both Jane and Frankie tried valiantly to stifle their chuckles while Maura set her attention towards Tommy, intrigued as to what he might say.

"Uh, okay, uhm.. I hope that TJ stays really healthy this winter. Cuz man, I thought it was tough just takin care of babies bein' you know, babies, but when they're sick, stuff comin' out of both ends, wow. They are _not_ happy. So I hope he doesn't get sick, now that he's in daycare cuz a lot of the other kids got colds and stuff. Lydia and I both got jobs so we're okay for now if somethin' happens but, yeah. TJ stayin' healthy. That's what we need, right now."

Maura smiled, pleased that he would be thinking of his son's health over any other topic he could have mentioned. She couldn't help but respond. "Tommy, I'd be happy to recommend some appropriate age level vitamins for TJ and some tips on sanitation during the cold season."

Tommy looked her way and gave her a full on dazzling Rizzoli grin. "Thanks Maura, I'm sure Lydia and I would try whatever you think is good for TJ." The flat-out honest trust in his statement nearly took her aback for a moment, and reminded her of the depth to which she had been absorbed into this particular family dynamic. She remained in awe of the inherent respect and appreciation that they accorded her for her medical knowledge. The doctor dutifully shared her knowledge and care freely and thoroughly whenever asked, seeing it as her familial contribution to the health and wellbeing of her chosen family.

Frankie nodded and began to speak. "Well, I hope that Pop can get his act together and get the help he needs with his drinking and with his health." He raised his hand when both Tommy and Jane began to bluster in response, quieting them with a wave. "I know! I know, nobody wants to talk about him right now, but he's still our Pop and yeah he can be an ass, but he needs somebody in his corner rooting for him." The family looked at him with varying degrees of surprise and concern. "I've been keeping tabs on him." He explained. "I give him a call a couple of times a week, just to say hi, encourage him a little and just letting him talk when he needs to."

The younger officer looked from face to face imploringly. "We gotta have _some_ hope for him, that he's gonna eventually do what he's gotta do to deal with his drinking. I don't wanna give up on him as a person." He glanced at his mother. "I don't think any one of us does, really, despite how angry we've been. Look, I know we all got our beefs with him… I guess I've come to forgive him for the stuff I had against him… it's all water under the bridge now anyway. I'm happy with the life I have." He shot a look over to his older sister, who gave him a small half grin. "I love being a cop. Bringing justice to people." A rueful, pensive look crossed his face for a moment. "It might'a been awesome to have a chance at the Big Show but… you can't live in the past. So I can't really hold that against him anymore. Now is all we have. And right now he's struggling." He admitted. "He's trying, don't get me wrong Ma, he's in a program, he's going to his doctor's appointments. And I gotta believe that there _is_ hope for him. He needs that. So that's my hope this year." He finished, with a decisive jerk of his head.

Angela had been listening quietly and gave her son a bittersweet smile. "I'm proud of you for that Frankie," she whispered. The Rizzoli matriarch gave a great exhale and glanced around the table. "My babies," she gushed, ignoring the conspicuously rolled eyeballs from three siblings and the amused snort from the adopted one. "My hope... for each and every one of you... is that you each get something you don't deserve this Christmas season." Four sets of eyes blinked at her, totally confused by her words. "Don't look at me like I just turned into a fruitcake, you know what I mean."

There was a very long pause, and then. "Actually Angela, I remain quite perplexed as to your inference regarding the concept of hope, in this instance." Maura spurted, catching the quick glance from Jane as she tried earnestly to divine a possible meaning from the elder Italian's cryptic statement.

Angela heaved a sigh. "Oh you idiots," she said lovingly, "it's the Christmas miracle… don't you see? Maura honey, I wouldn't expect you to get it right away, you didn't have to attend catechism, but the rest of you are all smart enough to put two and two together… "

Jane's head clicked to the side and her expression suddenly changed to one of comprehension followed by supreme unamusement. "Ma, really? Okay, I get that you're not happy that we don't attend mass often cuz of our jobs but what, you got a second career as a priest now?"

Frankie and Tommy both looked at her, lost, even as Maura reacted to her tone with a quiet "Jane."

That was all it took to bring Jane down a notch, but she continued to explain in a milder voice, "It's that whole thing with Jesus saving people who don't deserve it. Or giving them blessings. Or gifts or something. It's been a while since I was in catholic school and most of that time I was trying to avoid Sister Winifred, so I'm probably a little shaky on the particulars but I think what Ma is saying is that she wants us all to experience something that goes way above and beyond what we think we need or want, or would normally expect." She shrugged, running a restless hand through her wild hair. "Something... extra special. I'm guessing to make us think; keep us humble or grateful or something. That what you meant Ma?"

Angela nodded, quietly beaming with pride at the speed at which her daughter figured out what she was really hoping and praying for her children this year, even as she noted with concern the potentially explosive energy churning just beneath the surface of her firstborn child. "You got it Janie. So listen up, and be on the look-out for whatever blessings this season has in store for you."

"That's a lovely thought Angela," Maura commented, already thinking that just having family time with the Rizzoli's was enough to satisfy that particular wish for this week. Maura deeply treasured the inclusion info family events and discussions, the open displays of affection she had never had before meeting the Rizzoli's. She counted herself very blessed by the entire happy, vibrant, sometimes loud but always loving group of people sitting around her table. She angled to her left and gazed at her best friend's face. "Jane, what do you hope for?"

Jane's eyes were locked on to the single lit candle which was fluttering gently, her mind deep in thought, but somewhere distant. _Memories of her own pain and fear, of praying for mercy, piercing, blood flowing, a gunshot… the tortured still face of a child, a mother, a cross, a symbol, a grave; images, thoughts and feelings all swirled together inside the detectives mind. The deaths of this family weighed heavily upon her. She knew their pain. She understood. She needed to help them find peace._

After too long a time went by without a response, Maura tentatively reached her hand out and rested it on the detective's forearm, trying by touch to bring her back to them. "Jane?"

"Hm, what?" The Italian startled briefly and blinked, refocusing troubled eyes onto her dinner companions. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about the case." She shoved her hands below the table, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

If Maura were a betting woman she'd place her entire inheritance on the extremely high probability that Jane was worrying the scars on her hands, a sure sign of agitation and heightened anxiety, never mind the direct connection to the case at hand that had Jane spooked.

"I really wanna have hope that we get this bastard, but it's not looking too good. We have no trace evidence; we've exhausted all the leads that came up. But I just keep thinking that there must be some connection we're not seeing."

Jane flinched; a rare moment of disquiet gracing her roman features, as she recalled again the deeply disturbing perversion of religious imagery displayed as they discovered the murders that had been performed in the dead of night, starting with the children. All four family members had been systematically crucified in the cemetery, held fast by tree limbs and gravestones spread out in the area, their screams cut off by the duct tape over every victims' mouth; puncture wounds on each their hands and feet, and a final piercing thrust though the abdomen by an unknown weapon that made them all bleed out. A ritualistic carving had been deeply imbedded into each victim's chest peri-mortem, which the crime lab could not identify. It was, in short, nothing Boston PD had ever seen before and the entire community was up in arms over the brutality of the deaths and the brazenly open nature of the crime.

"God, that crime scene was horrific," she paused, and the M.E. replaced her hold on Jane's forearm, until Jane collected herself and continued. "They need justice, they need for someone to figure out what happened, who the hell did that to them... and I can't really rest until I can give that to them, some measure of peace. So yeah, I sure hope this case doesn't go in the cold file. I hope I find the sick bastard and nail his unholy ass to the wall. Give him a taste of his own medicine." She scoffed, clearly brimming with displaced frustration.

"You'll get him Janie." Frankie piped up encouragingly. "You always do, sooner or later. Maybe you just need a break, get your mind off it for a few hours. You stickin' around after dinner? Pats game is on…" he trailed off invitingly.

Jane's gaze flicked around, not able to really look anyone in the face as she spoke. "I'm not sure Frankie, I'm not really good company right now." She trailed off when she felt a tug on her arm, and belatedly realized that Maura had her hand firmly gripping the Italian's arm for practically the entire strained conversation, gently rubbing the reachable pressure points, sending calming signals through her body as Jane was trying valiantly to maintain control of her emotions as she spoke about the difficult case. She glanced at the slender hand surrounding her arm, feeling the peaceful repetitive stroking. She flicked her dark chocolate eyes up, to catch in deep hazel.

Maura gave her a soft smile. "I'd really love it if you could stay, just for a little while… I missed you this week; it's been so busy I haven't really seen you much." Which was the truth to a certain extent so the doctor felt fairly confident no stray hives would suddenly appear. She had certainly seen Jane often this past week due to the shared case, but she hadn't really communed with her best friend, she knew she was interacting with an increasingly irritated Detective Rizzoli for the vast majority of their discussions.

Jane continued to peer at her for a few more seconds, seemingly having an internal debate. Eventually she caved. "Okay." She acquiesced. "I'll stay for a little while. Until half time, k?"

"Okay", Maura echoed, still not letting go of the fine boned arm, trying to communicate gentle support and tranquility.

"What are you hoping for Maura? I'm sure it's gotta be something fancy, or big, like world peace, right?" Tommy asked, breaking the small spell that had come over the two best friends.

Maura turned a bit to address him as Jane grabbed her beer with her unoccupied hand. "As a scientist, I don't particularly utilize the concept of hope often, in research. We lay out variables, run experiments, and although we might hope that the results prove or disprove a theory, the experiment must run its course without interference in order for us to learn something from it. On a personal level, I've learned that placing too much hope in an individual situation, or a person, is often the quickest way to disappointment, so I tend to reserve hope for more global things like breakthroughs in medical or technical innovations that have the capacity to change many lives."

"Aw come on Maura, nothing closer to home comes to mind?" Frankie teased.

"Well, I remain eternally hopeful that Jane will choose more healthy breakfast options and will limit her caffeine intake to no more than two cups a day, but.." The M.E. paused as a round of laughter erupted from the other side of the table, while her beloved friend nearly spit her winter lager out in reaction.

"Maura!" Jane coughed, exasperatedly. "You can't waste your hope wish on something like that!" Maura opened her mouth to argue that she could indeed put her hope in Jane taking care of her body better, lest it break down prematurely from malnutrition or misuse, well, more misuse than Jane's usual degree anyway. She changed her mind though, not wanting to add to the pressure already on Jane's shoulders at the moment. She quickly thought of something a bit more meaningful that had happened recently.

"Alright, as you wish. I hope that Cailin and I can continue to get to know each other and maintain a cordial sibling bond while she is away at school." She paused, smiling a little in wonderment at the recent email exchanges and texts between her younger half-sibling and herself. "We have been maintaining correspondence recently, and it's been quite enjoyable getting to know her, though at times her pop culture references are confusing."

"That's great Maur', I knew you could do it," Jane praised her. "Just let me know if you need me to explain planking or yolo, okay?"

Maura shot her a puzzled look. "I don't think either of those terms have come up yet, but thank you. Mostly we discuss her studies, the arts, shoes." She blushed as the table shared a quiet chuckle, all of them knowing about Maura's shoe buying habits. "Still, it seems to be going well thusfar. And Hope…"

Maura broke off, staring at the white candle as her mind suddenly made the connection between the Hope candle and the deliverance of the baby in the Christian prophecy… and her unwavering belief that her birth mother was out there, somewhere. Finally, finally her Hope had arrived, her birth mother had been revealed to her this past year, after decades of waiting and wondering. "Hope; realized." She breathed.

The Rizzoli's looked at each other uncomprehendingly. Angela cleared her throat. "Hope realized what, honey?"

Maura shook her head, not sure how to explain. "No, its… I hoped for years to find my birth mother… and this year I did. And her name is Hope." She began to tear up, and a strong hand grasped hers immediately. She was surrounded by a long protective arm, and the scent of lavender and myrrh comforted her as Jane searched her eyes to see what was wrong. "I'm alright, I'm just… amazed and incredibly grateful that finally happened, despite the many difficulties we went through in the beginning. And I understand now." She nodded to the wreath. "I understand why Hope is celebrated." She gave them a watery smile and dabbed her eyes with her napkin, taking refuge in the half-hug, and leaning in when Jane pulled her closer and gave her a kiss on the crown of her head.

"I'm so proud of you Maura, for working through that relationship. I know we're all glad you found some peace with that aspect of your life. Took her a while to come around, and God knows she's not perfect, but, she's here, and she's a lot like you. I'm proud of you for giving her another chance." Maura dipped her head and sighed, leaning back into Jane for a moment. Frankie and Tommy struck up a sidebar conversation, giving the doctor a chance to collect herself, and she and Jane conversed intimately back and forth for a few minutes as Maura calmed down.

Angela remained mostly quiet, silently observing the verbal and non-verbal communication happening between her daughter and the M.E. as she set up TJ's food. All the signs were there that these two adorable knuckleheads were made for each other, if they could only stop dancing around the rainbow colored elephant in the room and act. Jane's mother knew she and her ex-husband probably had a hand in her eldest's struggle to be seen as a woman, while still trying to be equal to the men she worked with. Angela was beginning to realize that her insistence in trying to get Jane to act like a lady in order to attract a man may have actually damaged Jane's natural self-confidence in that regard and made her attempts at relationships fail out of the box.

But things with Maura were different. They didn't just have a good time like some of Janie's other friends in the past; they made each other better people when they were together. _Like iron sharpening iron_, the phrase reverberated in her mind. But it went so much farther than that.

Maura was the only person who could get her hot-headed daughter to calm down at times, and after Jane's many 'accidents', (Angela refused to think of the name of that monster who had almost destroyed her baby's hands) it was Maura who she let her guard down with, Maura who she let take care of her, Maura… who was still the only person allowed to touch Jane's hands unexpectedly.

Conversely, Maura had less medical scares, but had been thrown into a multitude of highly emotionally charged situations with her parents, both adopted and biological, on top of dealing with her own abandonment and rejection issues. Angela had seen it time and time again; whenever Maura shut down emotionally, the only one able to get past that icy clinical wall was Jane who was instantly tender, comforting and protective of the petite doctor, above all other people, family included. Jane was somehow always able to coax Maura into coming out of her shell and trusting again.

Angela said a quick grace for the table and then watched as her children tucked in to the favored dishes.

"Frankie! Save some for the rest of the family!"

She continued to muse contemplatively throughout dinner, occasionally glancing across the table, observing all the little ways in which Jane and Maura interacted, even while they conversed with others. Maura often had a hand or a shoulder or an elbow resting in Jane's space, just barely brushing her daughter's body, especially during those moments when she could see Jane's agitation or restlessness spike. All it took was a glance or a touch, and the beast in Jane was pacified, at least for the moment. If Angela didn't know better, based on just tonight's interactions, she would swear that her daughter and the M.E. were in a relationship already.

"Ah! Janie, watch where you put that spoon, you're gonna splash the sauce all over Maura's pretty blouse!"

Angela knew she wasn't the smartest of women, or the most devout catholic, but she took her family and her religion seriously, often praying for divine assistance and protection for her children. But while she adored the church, the elder Rizzoli had come to realize that some of its teachings came into conflict with what she considered real life. Having spent time with Detective Frost's mother and her partner, and having lived next door to Maura for the past couple of years, Angela's outlook had changed quite a bit on what makes a family, what makes a good life partner, and what real love is.

She had seen all of her children exemplify familial love and sacrifice for each other and for so many citizens of Boston. She had seen Jane suffer great physical harm, and Maura suffer deep emotional wounds, and the love and trust that the two younger women had for each other in healing from all of that had grown and multiplied, until it was a constant presence every time the two were in the same room. Angela could see the writing on the wall with them, and it was a good, positive, healthy future. She gazed at the unlit white candle in the center of the advent wreath, the one that represented selfless love. Surely God saw the love between her daughter and the doctor and thought it was good too. So how could some love be right, and some love be wrong?

"Better look out, Tommy, I think TJ's about to, whoops…. Hmm, okay my little man, time to open up, here's the airplane…. Bzzzzzzzzzz. Good boy!"

While Angela might have preferred that Jane find a good Catholic Italian man to settle down with and give her grandbabies, at every turn Jane had failed spectacularly and tragically, most recently with the break up with Casey, and the loss of her unborn child only partway through the first trimester due to the dangers of her job. After so much heartache, it was no wonder that Jane had pretty much shut down that aspect of her life. If anyone could open her up again, it'd be Maura. Irish, agnostic, optimistic, scientifically minded Maura; Jane's opposite in every way, fitting together like two halves of a whole.

Angela sighed. Only poor Maura was so deathly afraid of rejection from the closest and safest relationship she had ever had in her life, Angela suspected that she was simply too scared to make a move, and was settling instead for a man who was nice and easy-going and pretty smart, and just as quirky as her, but ultimately, not Jane.

"Maura honey, let me take that to the sink, you just stay there and relax. Jane gimme that plate."

And Jane, bless her thick Italian skull,was so far in denial that it would take another minor miracle for her eldest child to take her head out of her rear end and see what she had in front of her. Jane had her own issues to deal with too, but even with her insecurities and possible PTSD, Angela knew they were undeniably a match, and it really didn't matter that they were both women. She just needed a few small miracles to come her way that involved knocking some sense into the two of them.

Luckily, Angela believed in Christmas miracles. The Rizzoli matriarch knew something had to give sooner or later with them anyway, so she resolved to do a bit more of what a mother does best.

Meddling.

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><p><strong>ooooOOoooo<strong>

**.**

*The big show –being promoted to Major League Baseball teams from lower string teams.

**AN:** So, thoughts? It was nice to get this out finally. Obviously I'm a little late with the season but that's okay, there's plenty of snowy days left to reminisce about the holiday spirit with.


	2. Chapter 2

**Advent**

**Chapter 2**

**By** **IncendioVerum**

**Summary: **As December rolls through Boston, The Rizzoli and Isles households come together to celebrate and end up experiencing several truths behind the Christmas season; hope, love, joy and peace abound, and even a Christmas miracle or two.

**Disclaimer**: See chapter 1.

**AN**: Still with me? Awesome. Looks like we are getting more snow this weekend in New England, so perfect time for more fanfic writing! Thanks for the reviews; they let me know someone out there is listening. There is some brief graphic crime scene recollection in this chapter, could be a tad disturbing to sensitive readers who aren't into that. Also, we may be delving into some of the darker parts of Jane's psyche in this story. This wasn't my original intention, but what came out when I was typing away just begged for some exploration. This is totally un-beta-ed btw, so forgive any mistakes.

**Advent**

Definition: A time of expectant waiting and preparation. The arrival of a notable person, thing, or event.

**We are still in…. PART 1. Hope **

Definition**: **a feeling of expectation, a desire for a certain thing to happen. A feeling of trust.

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><p><strong>ooooOOoooo<strong>

**Chapter 2**

It was nearing the end of the fourth quarter and the Patriots were losing, badly. They were watching the last game of the day and Jane and her brothers were beside themselves in front of the widescreen TV yelling at the head coach, at the defense, at the quarterback, and as far as Maura could tell, at pretty much anything even mildly associated with the performance of the team, including their Gatorade sports drink. Maura scoffed politely. As if their voices could be heard in Buffalo.

They had migrated to the living room after dinner, all except for Angela who took TJ over to the guesthouse for bath time. Maura knew that if she could just get Jane settled, she could continue to work on the stress points on her best friend's body and perhaps coax her into staying awhile longer to get her mind off of the case. Jane was sitting sideways on the couch with a beer in one hand; her long legs stretched out over Maura's limbs. The doctor was currently kneading a knot in one of the detective's calf muscles absently as they all watched the disaster that was slowly unfolding. Occasionally Jane would get over-excited due to the play-by-play, but for the most part she stayed put, allowing Maura to massage her legs and feet. Thankfully, Jane's brothers were too engrossed in the game to notice, or too polite to tease her. Given that Jane had remained relatively present for the majority of the game (they were way past half time yet Jane had just shrugged at Maura and wiggled her foot in a silent plea to continue her ministrations instead of escaping) Maura thought that at least some progress was being made.

Suddenly the leg in front of her jerked and yelling erupted once again, this time excited, not angry. She looked at the screen to see that a player had intercepted a poorly thrown pass and scored an unexpected touchdown for the Patriots. "Yes! About time!" Jane crowed, squirming in place a little with excitement. Maura couldn't help but laugh along with her, enjoying the easy smile on her best friend's face. "Okay, now we just gotta wait for the right moment for a Hail Mary pass and we can win this thing! How much time is left on the clock Frankie?"

The other officer squinted, "Man, only four and a half minutes. This is gonna be close." After all of the time outs been used up, they were down to twenty two seconds on the clock, and the Pats were at their own forty yard line. Jane grimaced and grabbed Frankie's hand as they leaned in together to watch. Maura was surprised to hear a soft chant begin from all three siblings. "Hail Mary, full of grace…" Maura was confused, she knew what a 'Hail Mary' pass was, of course, Jane having explained it to her a few years ago; she just didn't expect that people would actually pray over the possible conclusion of the football game. Just as she was about to ask Jane about it, the line broke, the quarterback found an opening, and lo and behold, a Patriots receiver found the ball with a minimum of interference and ran the last few yards and straight into the end zone. Touchdown. Game over.

Nothing could have contained the exuberance of the Rizzoli siblings as they all whooped for joy. Maura just sat back and enjoyed the comradery on display. After the end of game commentary began, Tommy stood up and said his goodbyes, before heading out the back door to collect his son from Angela in the guesthouse. Maura escorted him to the back door and gave him a hug on the way out; reminding him to pick up children's vitamins for TJ the next time he was at the drug store.

Jane and Frankie both stood to clean up the empty beer bottles on the coffee table, but Frankie waved her off until she sat back down on the couch with a groan. "I got this Janie, I'm gonna just put these in the kitchen and take off too, I got an early shift tomorrow. " He grabbed the beer bottles and made his way over to her. "See you at the station in the morning." He bent down and gave her a quick kiss on the head, which she squirmed in reaction to good naturedly.

"G'night Frankie. Hey, coffee's on you this time!" she bellowed with a smirk and sank into the couch cushions. Within a few moments she fell into an introspective quiet as she stared blankly at the TV, absently watching the end of SportsCenter.

Jo Friday came around the corner of the settee with a curious expression on her furry face and jumped up onto the couch, taking a minute to survey the action and possible foodstuffs, before burrowing into the blanket by Jane's thigh with a snort and giving her owner her best pet-me-now expression. After much wriggling and whining, Jane looked over and ran a hand along her belly, much to the delight of the little dog. The repetitive motion soothed some of her turbulent thoughts, and she spent a few moments gently playing patty-cake with her little four legged eating machine.

Just as the ache in her hands made itself known again, a steaming mug was placed in front of her nose. She blinked, and looked up, to see gentle hazel eyes with a spark of green in them gaze at her affectionately. Eyes that hadn't missed the tell-tale signs of her pain; the stiff digits, the constant clenching, or the need to keep her hands hidden from the rest of her family tonight.

Maura's voice was disarmingly light. "I promise it's not the 'panda poop' tea, as you insist on calling it. It's Chamomile-mint, with a touch of honey. It has many natural healing properties. Try some."

"Uhm…"

"Just hold it for a bit. Have some if you want. I'll join you in a minute."

Maura sensed a small victory when Jane reached for the mug after a moment. And gave a sigh of relief when she wrapped her scarred hands around the warm earthen ceramic. Maura headed back to the kitchen but didn't miss the mumbled "thank you," from that smoke tinged voice.

Frankie caught Maura's eye as he gathered his things. She came over to the door to see him out and he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Whatever you're doing with her, keep doin' it, this is the most chill I've seen her in days." He muttered under his breath. "This case is making her nuts."

Maura's elegant eyebrows came together in a scowl. "I know! I've been trying everything I can to get her to relax and talk to me about this. She's working herself to exhaustion. Again." The M.E. sighed. "I was hoping to have her stay here tonight; she always sleeps better in my bed." Maura paused in thought, not seeing the raised eyebrows on Frankie's face.

He coughed to cover his surprise and slid his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. "So, you ah, think that's gonna work?" He asked, nonchalantly, not really sure what he just stepped into.

"What, Jane sleeping with me?" She tossed one shoulder elegantly in response. "It usually does. Less chance of nightmares if she knows my hands are on her. She's almost always relaxed and in better spirits the next morning."

Frankie snickered, "I bet she is," realizing that indeed there had been another reason, a subconscious reason why Jane had warned him off of trying to date Maura a while ago. He had to laugh at the clueless nature of his sibling who projected true sisterly concern during that conversation a few months ago, but still couldn't acknowledge her own jealousy for what it was when Maura started dating Jack. Or any other man in recent history, for that matter.

Maura gave him a strange look, then thought over what she had said in the past few minutes, and how it could be interpreted. Immediately her eyes bulged out and she nearly tripped over herself to get to Frankie to set him straight. "Oh my God Frankie, no. That's not what I meant! Jane and I are not involved in an intimate…" She couldn't quite get the last word out though. Because they were; they were involved in a very intimate relationship, it just wasn't a sexual one.

Frankie put his hands up to catch her. "Hey calm down, it's okay. It's girl stuff, I get it. She trusts you. Right now she needs that, I think, to ground her while her head's all busy. Go be with her. I'll catch up to you guys tomorrow." He opened the back door. "And Maura, just so you know, I think it would be okay with everyone if you two were..." He shrugged. "Involved."

Caught with the truth like a reindeer in head lights, complete with rosy nose from the wine she had been drinking earlier, Maura stared at him speechlessly. His dark eyes were warm as he noted her reaction. _Gotcha Doc,_ he thought amusedly, already beginning to plot how he was going to work on his endearingly oblivious sister to help her pull her head out of her ass and allow herself to be happy for once in her life.

The doctor twitched, then grabbed the lapel of his jacket and pushed him outside suddenly, stepping out onto the back step with him and pulling the door closed behind her. She whirled and stepped close to him, an anxious whisper passing over her lips as her hazel eyes pleaded for him to drop the subject. "Frankie… you can't just-"

"Come on Maura. You can't tell me you don't see it. You know Jane loves you. So much." He assured her quietly, even as a forlorn look passed across the M.E.'s features.

"I know," she eventually admitted quietly, a deep sadness coming over her. "But it's not quite the same. She doesn't see me as a potential romantic partner. Jane identifies as exclusively heterosexual, and, per my observations, becomes uncomfortable or agitated when co-workers or strangers suggest otherwise."

He shook his head. "That's cuz Jane's been teased about bein' a tomboy since we were kids, and the guys on the force are pretty merciless when it comes to women cops. They talk a lot of shit about her, because Jane's good at what she does, and the guys are intimidated as hell, so they use the dyke cop thing to try and get under her skin. Jane's been fighting the stereotype for years because she's not super girly. She hates it when people assume stuff about her, and okay so maybe she's got some kinda hang up about the gay label thing, I don't really know. But she loves you hard; this I DO know, and she would do anything to be with you."

Surprise flitted across the M.E's face. "She... told you all this?"

"No, not so much in words, not like she's said she wants to jump your bones, but, Christ Maura, anybody who's got eyes can see what's between you two is something powerful. Why do you think she flips out when you find a new guy to date? Why does she act like a gentleman when she's with you? Opening doors, taking your coat, making sure you get home safe. The kind of stuff that guys do for a woman they're with. Janie may think she's straight, but she sure doesn't act like it whenever she's near you."

Hazel eyes scanned the micro expressions on his face for any hint of falseness. Eventually, Maura heaved a sigh, and glanced away. "I hesitate to put any hope in the matter," she confessed. "Jane hasn't mentioned an interest, or indicated any desire to-" She waved her hand at herself vaguely. "So I'm left with trying to fill that void with alternative options. I can't even tell you when things changed for me. It feels like I've always been open to more with her, though I know that hasn't been the case. But I want as much of her as she'll let me have. Our friendship has been so organic; this just feels like the next natural step in the process. I realize that Jane and I conceptualize sexuality in different ways and I understand that she may struggle with coming to terms about how she may feel… If I could just get her to talk to me about what she's thinking, perhaps…" She released a tense breath. "But, we haven't spent much time together recently outside of work."

"Because you've been hangin' out with Jack, instead of with her." He pointed out. "And look how well she's taking _that_ change, after _living_ _in your house with you_ for two weeks after the baby died. She's moody as hell, and doesn't know what to do with herself." He exclaimed. "You can't blame all of that on whacked out hormones. Yeah she was happy to get back to work but..." He paused and gave her a poignant look. "She misses you, and doesn't know how to tell you that without sounding like a creep. So she's just doing whatever she thinks will make you happy. Even if it means watching you walk away from her, and towards Jack."

The M.E. stared at him until he shifted uncomfortably. "What, so we talk sometimes when we work out at the gym. We run, we box; she kicks my ass usually, except when it comes to free weights. But we say what we gotta say about stuff, you know?" He huffed out a warm breath out into the cold air, watching it crystalize contemplatively. "Look, all I'm sayin is this. I know my sister. She loves you more than I've ever seen her love anybody else who wasn't blood related. And you are worth way more to her than most of her blood."

The unexpected idiom wasn't lost on her, and Maura's eyes closed involuntarily as a particular memory flew by her consciousness_. Her fingers pushed into the hole in Jane's abdomen, blood pouring over her hands as the detective lay bleeding out on the steps of BPD, Maura trying desperately to seal off the artery that had been blown to bits when Jane pulled the trigger of her own gun to shoot through herself and Marino, ending the siege at BPD in a horrifying standoff that the M.E. still had nightmares about, four years later._ She released the painful recollection, and brought herself back to the present, to the reality of where she stood in relation to her best friend, and hung her head. "I know what she would do to protect me, and the family. She's already shown me that she would sacrifice her life for me without a second thought. What I don't know, is whether or not she is willing to give me everything else."

The M.E. sniffed, discouraged. "I need facts, Frankie. I can't make assumptions; not in my work, and especially not with her. I need her friendship too much to make her uncomfortable with me if this… attraction is one sided." She paused, contemplating her ring absently. "I need evidence. I need her to show me that's what _she_ wants. I need her to give me the parts of her that she keeps hidden; from me, from everyone. Good or bad, it doesn't matter. I'm willing to give her anything…everything." She let her arms drop in surrender. "But Jane hasn't given any indication that she wants more from me than what we have now."

His eyes twinkled and he gave her a half-grin. "Ya sure about that, Doc?" She blinked, confused. "The way she looks at you when she thinks you're not looking… well, just watch. You'll see. She can't help herself. I've never seen her react to anybody the way she responds to you." He trudged down the walkway, before turning back to her. "My sister kind of sucks in the communication department, but give her a chance to show you, in her own way, what she's looking for with you. Don't be afraid to give her a kick in the pants about it though." He laughed, then made a face. "Might want to get rid of Jack at some point if you're serious about her. Janie doesn't like to share."

He meant it to be funny but it left the M.E. wondering about Jane's rather odd behavior the past couple of months especially with regards to the amount of time Maura had been devoting to keeping things working with Jack. Things had changed between them after the miscarriage, when Jane had stayed with her during her recovery. Jane's physical and emotional healing from that sad event had brought them immeasurably closer, but then she moved back to her apartment and Jack had started demanding more of Maura's time. Jane remained verbally supportive but Maura felt a certain self-protective distance from the detective spring up, as she had begun to spend more time with Jack, and less time with Jane. If the possible basis of Jane's recent behavior was jealousy, even if Jane was unaware of it, then perhaps Frankie was right. Perhaps Maura needed to pay attention to what the detective _wasn't_ saying, and instead focus on Jane's actions.

A new feeling sparked to life in the deepest reaches of her soul, an emotion that Maura did not usually allow herself for fear of failure, of rejection. But she believed in Jane, and maybe, just maybe, it was coming time for something deeper to happen with them. A tiny flame of hope sprung up in her heart, and she carefully gathered it in to the deepest, most protected part of her, and let it stay. For now.

She secured the door, wandered to the kitchen to pick up the second mug of tea that had been steeping, and made her way to the living room to see what had Jane so focused and silent.

Jane, meanwhile, had grabbed a small notepad and a pencil that had been left on the end table, and was absently doodling. At least, that's what Maura thought she was doing. Over and over, Jane kept drawing small symbols from memory, turning the paper this way and that, looking at them from different angles. It took the M. E. a moment to recognize the symbols as the same as the ones carved into the chests of her morgue's inhabitants. Concerned, she sat back down on the couch next to the focused brunette and threw the blanket over her legs, and Jane's feet. "What are you doing?" she asked eventually, after several minutes observing this rather unusual process.

Jane shrugged. "Just thinking." She stretched a long leg out over the M.E.'s though.

Unable to stop herself from seeking out physical contact with the detective, Maura slid her hands over Jane's knee and began to massage her way down a slim calf. "Do you want to talk about it?" She invited, not sure if Jane was ready to discuss what was truly bothering her but feeling the need to connect all the same.

Jane gestured to her drawings. "These look familiar but…they don't fit together this way…"

Maura leaned over and took in the variations. "You think they are supposed to be connected together? As in… one larger image instead of four smaller ones?"

"Maybe." She paused. "Yeah. Actually I do. If I could just remember where I've seen something like this before."

"Jane, I had the crime lab do an image search on symbols, runes, and religious imagery; nothing came up that seemed to be a close enough match to lead us in a particular direction. The closest thing was some eastern European artwork from the 1800's, but even that wasn't an exact match, just a stylistic similarity."

"I know Maur', your guys did their thing." Jane snorted derisively. "Maybe I'm just making myself crazy."

The doctor gave her best friend a loving smile shaded with a note of caution. "Jane, you wouldn't be Detective Rizzoli if you didn't go above and beyond the call of duty to solve your cases, but, I think, in this case, we should think about getting you up to bed soon. I know you haven't slept much; perhaps with a good night's rest, you'll be able to tackle this avenue of investigation in the morning."

Jane peered at her friend. "So you think I'm crazy too? Great."

"No, Jane. No. But I do think you're tired." Maura took a sip of tea and watched as the detective tapped her pencil on the pad repeatedly, before dropping it with a clatter and removing her leg from Maura's grasp. She leaned over, running her fingers through the dark mane of hair and resting her elbows on her knees. Maura simply waited in silence, sipping her tea delicately. Long moments passed while the doctor listened to Jane's breathing change, watched the shoulders tense, then droop in a certain anatomical surrender as Jane stopped fighting the noise in her head and let it out.

Maura's patience was rewarded when a strangled whisper carried past the curtain of brown hair. "I can't believe they c-crucified the children too, Maur'," Jane's voice wavered, the words choking her. "Jesus, this case is fucked up. Who the hell would want to kill these people…like... that. Put steak knives through a two year old's hands. God, she was just a baby."

And there it was. The internal angst that no one ever saw was coming to the surface. The half healed mental and emotional wounds of the past had overcome Jane's iron will and had broken out, however briefly, tonight, now that it was just the two of them.

Maura knew as soon as she saw the detective walk under the crime tape last Monday that there was probably going to be hell to pay this week, and Jane was going to be the one paying it. Jane had taken in the grisly scene and stopped cold. The Italian wasn't often shocked by death, but the sheer agony of the scene and the religious mockery had greatly disturbed her best friend. Between Hoyt, the BPD shooting, the miscarriage, and her own deep seated insecurities and guilt, it was all of Jane's triggers pulled at once. A part of Maura was simply in awe that she was still standing, still working through it all. _At what cost though_, she mused sadly.

Jane continued with a self-deprecating sniffle. "And Ma wonders why I don't go to mass often? It makes me uncomfortable. Got a little too much in common with the dude in the crown and the toga hanging on the wall." She paused, as if in belated respect. "But he knew what he was doing; he made a choice. For the greater good. But these people, they didn't sign up to be sacrificed. And the only thing they're guilty of is…what, choosing the wrong church to go to? They had no problems, no enemies, their finances were clean; everybody we spoke to said they were a great family. There is ZERO motive so far. What the fuck, God! I just, I don't get it. Why? Why the kids, too."

Maura took a sip of her tea as she ruminated on the topic. "We may never know Jane. Sometimes there is no reason for violence. As you know sociopaths don't always have reasonable motives behind their actions."

Jane sniffed. "I know, I know. I just….I can't stop seeing the little one's face in my head. No kid should ever be subjected to that kinda pain. I HAVE to find this perp, Maura, but I don't have any more leads. It just kills me. I'm so afraid I'm not gonna catch whoever did it. "

Maura put her cup down on the coffee table and scooted closer, sliding a hand languidly up Jane's back to tangle in the curls at the nape of her neck, and finding tight muscles to knead while she leaned over to murmur directly into Jane's ear. "You will. But you need to let go of it, for now, so you can rest. They'll still be guests in my morgue in the morning."

Maura slid off the couch, and worked her way around the downstairs, shutting off lights and putting the empty cups in the sink. She padded into the laundry room to check on the location of her beloved pet, finding that Bass had worked his way over to the heat lamp and had retreated into his shell for the evening. She gave him a pat to make sure his shell wasn't too hot from the lamp, and closed the door behind her.

She circled back to the living area to collect Jane, who hadn't moved an inch. Maura crouched down in front of the detective and sent a hand to slide up Jane's left arm, under her hair, until she felt a slim wrist and a long boned hand under her fingertips. She brushed by them, and directed Jane's hair back over one of her ears. Jane's hands were covering her eyes, and Maura could feel the slight tremor in Jane's jaw as she took a deep breath and blew it out. She bent closer and tenderly kissed the crown of Jane's forehead, before moving both hands to grasp the detective's wrists and gently guiding them away from her face.

Jane's teary bloodshot eyes came into view finally. Maura matched them with a steady gaze and a low voice. "Come on. " She encouraged. "Come upstairs to bed." The '_with me'_ was unspoken but they both heard it as if she had. Moments passed as she continued to gaze into the tortured eyes of the detective, having a conversation without words_. Let me take it Jane; give me this burden, share it with me for tonight, and you can take it up again tomorrow. Let me comfort you, let me stand guard over you, let me in Jane._

Maura caught the quick glance at her lips, neck, and chest, as Jane scanned her. Deciding that now was really not the time to enter into that_ other_ discussion, but starting to see Frankie's point, she simply smiled and tugged gently. Jane dropped her eyes and sniffed, but allowed the doctor to pull her to her feet. She guided the exhausted cop up the stairs and kept one hand on her back, steering her into the master bedroom and right into the ensuite. She left Jane in there to brush her teeth while she popped into her walk-in closet to find a spare Boston PD t-shirt and some thin sweatpants that Jane had left the last time she stayed over.

The doctor peeked into her bathroom, and handed off the bed clothes to the brunette. "Thanks Maur'." She said, and shuffled out to the bedroom to change, leaving the honey blonde to quickly complete her evening ablutions and slip into her grey silk pajama set.

When Maura padded over to the bed, she found Jane already under the covers on 'her' side, one arm covering her eyes. _Ah, hiding again._ A ghost of a smile passed over the M.E.'s face as she slipped underneath the sheets and turned out the light. The moon was fairly bright this evening and she could easily make out the roman profile in the dark. Maura got comfortable and turned her body to lie on her side so she could watch the rising and falling of the detective's breath.

She debated a moment and then. "Jane?"

A long arm made its way over vaguely in her direction, until a scarred hand found her arm and squeezed, almost tightly for a long moment, before loosening up. Surprisingly, Jane didn't remove her hand, and Maura lazily responded by bringing up her other hand and drawing loose strokes up and down Jane's radius. "Good night, Jane." She whispered. She watched the detective's breathing pattern change eventually as she relaxed into slumber. Then and only then did she dare to drift off herself, sending out a hopeful request to the universe for a restful, quiet night.

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><p>AH: Now Frankie's on board too? Hmm. Thoughts? Reviews? Recipies? ~IV<p>

R&I


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